A Disaster and Decision
by ImperialBoredom
Summary: SuperheroAU: Do you put on a weapon to save innocents or hide and await death?
1. Chapter 1

_Greetings, all! A quick note on what you're about to read. This little Hobbit fic is set in a superhero AU. Keep in mind this will be __**very**__ AU. I decided to split this up so it wouldn't be too long. The other two installments will include the Ring. My apologies for any mistakes. This has come together rather piecemeal and I hope it makes sense. Anyway, thanks for reading._

From where he sat, Bilbo could hear the distant thunder. It rolled over the city in great waves, echoing between buildings in a grand symphony of sound. They were echoing roars in rapid-fire succession and slow booms with vast silences between. There had been a lengthy hour where what sounded like a fireworks show was heard. Massive bursts and smaller cannonades steadily rattled Bilbo's apartment building. Years of hidden dust floated down from the ceiling and walls. The window rattled to the point where Bilbo feared it would break. It ended with a resounding boom that made every atom in Bilbo's body whimper.

There was one problem with this thunder. The sky was void of any cloud that promised a thunderstorm. Smiling over the city was a perfect dome of celestial blue warmed to a glimmering tone. The cause of the thunder was what had many of the city's residents hiding in their homes or running across the bridge to safety. Though he knew what was going on, it was not fear that kept Bilbo in his apartment. It was trying to decide whether to join the battle or to leave his former associates to their fates. Whether to put on the one thing that could stop the madness or hide while innocents perished.

The reason for the chaos actually commenced the day prior. Every television station preempted their broadcasts for live coverage of it. Bilbo had heard nothing of it. The crowd gathered in front of the Mirkwood Mobile store had not given him pause. The stunned expression of several people and the harried whispers he heard did not register. Bilbo had been more focused on making it to the spice shop before it closed. The proprietor had posted a sign declaring he would close early to prepare for a family engagement. Bilbo did not realize he was out of his favorite tea until he looked in his small pantry and realized he was completely out. Glancing at his watch, he decided to head to the shop to pick some up. It was not until he passed the mobile store that he remembered the early closure. He quickened his pace.

In hindsight, Bilbo marveled at how he could have missed the signs. Passing people looked worried and frazzled. Several ran past him. A sports pub was deadly silent. Glancing in, Bilbo saw large crowd staring wide-eyed at the wall of TVs. A father herded his puzzled daughters out of a restaurant and into their car. He spared Bilbo a frightened glance before he closed the doors. Several more people zoomed past him. He barely noticed that they carried some form of suitcase or backpack. Yet Bilbo pressed on, determined to reach the spice shop before it closed. It was when he neared the main intersection a block from the shop that he finally realized something was wrong.

The intersection was dominated by four structures. At one corner was the massive marble mansion that housed Erebor Banking. Its massive pillars were a local landmark. Across from Erebor Banking was the city's open-air market. It was situated within four walls of thick glass. Entry was through three spaces along one wall. The building across from Bilbo was the Arboretum. It was the strangest of the four. It had an ash-black cylindrical body with windows shaped like different leaves. Its roof was shaped like the crowns of several towering trees. The building on Bilbo's side was a four-story brick structure. It was notable for its mural. On the side facing the Arboretum was a multicolored dreamland best understood with hallucinogenic drugs. All four buildings boasted high volumes of traffic. The intersection itself was considered one of the most congested and dangerous in the city. What Bilbo beheld was anything but.

All four crosswalks were blocked by four wide-bodied police vehicles. Lines of fourteen, heavily armed men stood motionless beneath blinking traffic lights between each vehicle. They were evenly spaced apart, clad in black body armor and helmets. Their faces were hidden beneath full face masks with built-in goggles. Their armament made Bilbo gulp. Two high-grade rifles were strapped to each of their backs. Bulging waist packs hinted at ammunition. There were likely smaller handguns and knives hidden in secret spots. Each clutched large guns that resembled hand-held cannons. No cars approached the intersection. Curious, Bilbo turned left to see further down the street. He could see police vehicles blocking every side street within his sight and two larger vehicles blocking a smaller intersection further up.

A din behind him caught his attention. He spun around to see a steady stream of people emerging from the brick building's side entrance. He looked across to Arboretum and saw a similar sight. A flood of people emerged from the front entrance. Bilbo glimpsed another armed man, a young redhead, shouting instructions at the crowd. No one moved to their cars. They simply clutched loved ones and bags while entering the street. They moved towards the intersection, mingling with the growing flood from the brick building. Bilbo looked up again and found more heading their way. People of every age strode down the street. They were joined by growing others emerging from the side streets. They passed Bilbo in a calm, nervous rush. Some moved to the sidewalks to move faster. Each who passed Bilbo carried naught but the clothes on their backs. As Bilbo watched, the crowd grew steadily as more emerged from the side streets and fell in beside their peers.

"Sir! Excuse me, sir!"

It took a moment for Bilbo to realize he was being addressed. As the crowd was now thick all around him, he could not see who was calling him. His motionless state apparently caught someone's notice. The young redhead from the Arboretum slipped from a space in the crowd and stood before Bilbo.

"Sir, I need you to start moving," said the man.

Bilbo did not move. "What's going on?"

The man's eyes narrowed. Muttering curses, he seized Bilbo by his arm and dragged him along. "I don't have time for this. Just get in the crowd and keep moving."

Bilbo wrenched his arm away. He stopped and glared at the man. "I have a right to know what's going on. Why are all these people leaving? What's happening?"

The man sighed irritably. "You can't tell me you don't know about the battle the Company's been fighting near the Long Lake."

Bilbo frowned. He had no clue that his former companions were involved. "No, I had no idea. I was on my way to the spice shop. I haven't a clue what's going on. I don't appreciate being told to move when I have no idea why."

The man rolled his eyes. "Just ask an officer when you get the city's shelter. One of my colleagues can fill you in. Now, move!"

Bilbo stood his ground, arms folded over his chest. The officer looked at Bilbo, blue eyes studying him carefully. Realization dawned on him.

"You really have no idea what's going," said the officer in amazement.

Bilbo huffed in aggravation. "As I said, I was on my way to the spice shop. I haven't been near a television since I left home! Now, please tell me what's going on and why everyone's being herded off like cattle!"

The officer glanced around. The crowd continued passing by, ignoring the two. Sighing, he reached into his vest and pulled out a small green tablet. He flicked it on and began tapping the screen. Once he reached what he wanted, he passed it to Bilbo. Puzzled, Bilbo took the tablet and looked at the screen. The site was for Gondor's sole news station, the Minas Tirith News Network. He looked at the officer.

"Scroll down and you'll see your answer," was the reply.

Bilbo scrolled down and himself looking at a series of images. For a minute, his mind did not process what he was seeing. When it did, he grasped the tablet tighter and studied each. The officer watched as the hue from Bilbo's skin drained.

The images were of fiery carnage. Firefighters battled sneering crimson flames that danced from building to building. Bloodied men, turned ghostly by ash, aided rescue workers. Sooty mothers howled for their children. An aerial shot revealed whole blocks turned ruby, ebony, and silver by walls of flame. A family dashed between walls of swirling flame to reach screaming loved ones. A child, face dripping with bits of bone and entrails, begged for its mother. A pile of charred skeletons greeted firefighters as they raced down a smoldering street. An exhausted battalion of life trudged down an empty highway as tendrils of silver smoke waved a cheery goodbye.

"Where is this?" whispered Bilbo as he stared at the tablet.

"From what's known, the towns near Mount Erebor, Dale, and New Lake-town were hit," said the officer. "Everyone's saying it's the Great Drake."

Bilbo froze, praying he had heard wrong. Licking his lips, he rasped, "Th-that's not possible. The Great Drake is supposed to be imprisoned. Gondor and Rohan were supposed to be his jailers. This isn't possible."

The officer snorted. "Well, those idiots failed. We've gotten confirmed reports that the Angmari terrorist network initiated a prison riot at the facility he was in. The riot led to a massive prison break. Not only did the flaming lizard escape, but several other loons are now loose. That Azog monster and his pervert son have been seen near Mirkwood National Forest. The head of the Angmari terrorist network is out. He's killed two whole families before his acolytes picked him up. We found out that the inside man for the Angmaris was some low-level bureaucrat working in cahoots with Isengard. He hasn't been captured because he's already within Isengard's borders and the Chancellor's protecting the bastard's hide. That's not the worst of it, though"

_What could be worse than Smaug_, thought Bilbo just as he asked, "What could be worse?"

The officer's expression grew taut. "Sauron may have escaped."

_Sauron_. The crown prince of a powerful dynasty who turned to violence. The traveler who traversed the globe, seeking weapons that would fulfill his ends. The acolyte who submitted to a greater evil while in captivity in some Haradi prison. The student who defied his master and emerged lord of a vile empire. His right hand was the head of Angmar's terrorist network. He obeyed Sauron completely and ensured his own followers obeyed Sauron's commands. Sauron's shadowy lieutenant, Annatar, had been running the network while his master and cohort were imprisoned. He made sure the Confederation paid for their betrayal from decades earlier.

If Sauron was indeed loose, that meant only one thing to Bilbo. He would seek out his primary weapon. The weapon he had lost by sheer chance. It had been lost for decades, not seen since the battle that put him in prison.

The weapon had been in Bilbo's possession since the mission to rid Erebor of Smaug.

"I would advise getting home to pack, sir," said the officer. He noticed the dread on Bilbo's face. "There's a high chance the Great Drake is on his way."

That got Bilbo's attention. "You mean he's heading here?"

The officer nodded. "We've been briefed on the possibility. The Confederation's space agency has been tracking the Drake's progress with their satellites. They've informed our Governor that if projections remain the same, our region is going to get hit. Bree's already been warned, but they haven't even begun evacuations. We're taking no chances."

Bilbo tried to find a glimmer of hope. "Surely, the Company-"

"The Company may not be able to stop him," said the officer. Glimmers of fear were clear in his eyes. Bilbo knew something was not right with his old colleagues "You just get home and pack and leave. If we don't get as many people out of here…" He trailed off, watching as Bilbo understood his meaning. With a nod, Bilbo handed the tablet back to the officer, turned heel, and joined the stream of life now in the streets.


	2. Chapter 2

_To the two who followed, thank you kindly for reading. I have decided to post the second and third sections at once. I have no plans to continue further. My apologies for any mistakes. Again, this whole thing came together piecemeal and I did my best to make sure the flow is relatively smooth. If there are any out-of-place details, my apologies again._

The journey back to his building was slow. The street and sidewalks were overflowing with people trying to leave the city. Many carried backpacks or multiple bags while others dragged along suitcases. The going was tedious and tense. At one point, Bilbo and several others had to part two men who launched into a fistfight. One was a father trying to aid his little son and the other cursed him for slowing everyone else down just to help his "stupid bastard." Once separated, a few snarled at the troublemaker for being heartless. The man simply grabbed his backpack and trudged on. Bilbo noticed that many carried nothing save the clothes on their backs.

As he continued, Bilbo noticed something that troubled him greatly. On one side of the street stood several narrow residential buildings. In front of all stood individuals pleading with an older individual. These individuals were shaking their heads or arguing with the other. Bilbo realized these were the folks who were going to stay behind. Despite the threat of imminent death, they would stay and risk their safety. He could not understand why. If Smaug was on his way, their lives would end.

The crowd slowly swelled in size as businesses emptied and patrons mixed in. Some battled the crowd to return to their homes while the rest just went along. Bilbo gingerly made his way towards the sidewalk. He passed the sports pub. The owner, a burly man in plaid and jeans, was taping a sign on his door. It read, "CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE!" The dancers of the club next door were shepherding their customers out the door. The two at the door were clad in nothing but g-strings and mile-high heels, but passerby paid little heed. The pink-haired woman who ran the street's beauty parlor was helping a teen client remove the foil from her hair. Once past her, Bilbo slipped onto the sidewalk. The going was quicker, but still slow. Bilbo carefully slithered his way through the crowd. He ignored the dirty looks and angry curses.

He finally reached his block ninety minutes after he left. By this point, he was tired and anxious. His sweater and slacks clung to him while his feet throbbed. He rubbed his back as he inched his way towards the edge of the crowd. A rude teenager had whacked him in the back with his suitcase and called him names for being so slow. He fell silent when Bilbo gave him his patented death glare. Those behind the teen recoiled at the sight. Bilbo continued on his way with little trouble. He sighed in relief when his tenement building came into view.

His building was a low-slung, three-level structure that hugged the sidewalk. Bilbo had chosen it after his return because it was peaceful. That, and the fact his original home had been auctioned off greedy relations. He lived in a corner cubicle on the bottom level. His neighbors were decent folk who were never given to the gossip and suspicions he had to deal with before he moved. This was one of the few things he was thankful for. As soon as he reached the edge of crowd, he slipped between a group of women and strode to his building.

The panic gripping the rest of the city was slow in appearance here. Many of the residents were glued to their TVs, watching the live coverage of the destruction. Solitary residents were so engrossed in the horror that their ears never heard the continuous warnings to flee. The landlord spent two hours banging on doors, hollering at anyone to flee. When few scrambled out of their residences, the man gave up and returned to his own residence. He emerged a few minutes after, carrying a small knapsack and flashlight. Taking one final look at his building, he shook his head and walked away. He merged into the sea of life just as Bilbo walked up to his front door. Bilbo pulled out his key, unlocked the door, and let himself in. The door swung shut behind him.

Bilbo's flat was a far cry from spacious Bag End. Lack of possessions meant it was sparsely furnished. A pull-out couch, standing lamp, coffee table and TV adorned the living room. An entryway led into the kitchen. Bilbo always made sure his cupboards and fridge were fully stocked. His oven was the only appliance. A rosewood table that belonged to his grandmother and two matching chairs stood in the middle next to the sole window in the entire place. Another entryway opened into a small corridor that led to the bathroom. It was so small that Bilbo still hurt himself moving around within. Along the corridor was a surprisingly spacious closet. This was what Bilbo sought.

Moving into the corridor, he reached out and grasped the closet door's handle. He swung it aside, reached to the ceiling and clicked on the light he installed inside. The light was dim, but enough for him to see. He stood before the closet, casting a critical eye on the contents. Boxes and knickknacks were piled along the top shelf. His clothing hung neatly from their hangers. His shoes, more boxes, and assorted items lay scattered on the floor.

He scanned the top shelf first. He sought his trusted emergency radio. He knew he could get all the information he wanted if he could find it. Failing to spot it on the shelf, he crouched down and scanned the floor. He peeked under a heavy overcoat and chuffed in relief. Peeking out from behind a box of decade-old moonshine was his radio. He reached over and slid it out. The motion knocked something loose. Something fell askew before something else fell to the floor. Bilbo paused immediately. What fell to the floor sounded like a small metal object. There was only one small metal object in the back of his closet.

"So that's where I put it," muttered Bilbo as he reached in and moved several boxes and shoes aside. He created a small clearing and looked within.

It was duller than he last remembered. Then again, he had not paid much attention to its hue when he took it from Gollum. In those days, it was just a shiny bauble that could turn its wearer invisible. A tool he used to free the Company from Thranduil and to speak to the Great Drake in Erebor. He learned on the return trip home it was anything but. Its shiny innocence hid an entrenched malevolence. During one miserable day, Bilbo learned it contained an intelligence that made him bag it and leave. He reached into his closet and picked it up. The Ring warmed quickly upon contact. Bilbo looked at it, studying it. Its sheen was bright. He marveled how something so normal could be so vile. How a ring could be the chosen weapon of the world's most powerful villain. Speaking of Sauron…

Bilbo clutched the Ring and radio tight and stood up. He moved into the kitchen. The inky hue seen through the window heralded evening. Bilbo moved to one corner and flicked on the light. The two fluorescent light flooded the kitchen with luminescence. He lay the Ring and radio on the table. He took a seat and moved the Ring directly across from him. He then moved the radio in front of him. It was a ham-shaped thing with one speaker. He knew it still had batteries, but did not know if they still worked. He flicked the switch on and checked the battery power. It indicated the batteries were still useful. Taking a breath, he began turning the dial. He sought the news stations, trying to remember the stations he usually listened to. He tried the high end of the bandwidth first. He stopped and listened.

"_This is the Minas Tirith News Network with continuing coverage of the destruction near Mount Erebor and the surrounding areas. It is now confirmed that all of the towns near Mirkwood National Forest, the cities of Dale and New Lake-Town, and their neighboring towns are completely destroyed. The death toll is already in the low thousands. Emergency crews do not hold out hope for survivors. Eyewitnesses are reporting mountains of charred remains-"_

Bilbo huffed and turned the dial. He had no desire to hear of the massacre that had taken place. Every media outlet would be broadcasting those images for weeks. He needed to hear something useful. He turned the dial halfway and paused to listen again.

"… _to the surprise of no one, the Chancellor of Isengard has announced his state's allegiance to fugitive terrorist kingpin, Sauron, and his organization. Chancellor Saruman states that his government will no longer recognize the nations of Gondor and Rohan and the Confederation. Isengard is now allied with the rogue state of Angmar and some provinces in northern Harad…"_

Bilbo rolled his eyes and turned the dial again. Isengard's treachery was the most anticlimactic thing he had heard. Everyone who followed politics knew Saruman's soft stance on Sauron and Mordor hinted at backdoor dealings. It did not help that Isengard, the smallest state on the continent, held enough power to cripple neighboring countries. Bilbo would let the world leaders hash things out, though. He turned the dial to the low end and stopped. What blared out the speaker stunned him.

"_Attention all listeners! The Great Drake is on the move and is believed to be heading straight for the city of Bree and the Shire region. If you have not fled, it is now fruitless to do so. The Company has failed to stop the fiend over the Long Lake. Eyewitnesses state that every Companion has sustained serious physical injuries that are affecting their ability to fight. Gondor and Rohan are rushing military aid to the borders of Bree and the Shire. The Confederation is also sending reinforcements. Local military units are forming a defensive perimeter along Bree's city limits and past the Brandywine Bridge. The Governor has ordered all emergency crews to retreat to the city's bunker. To any and all who have chosen to remain in the city, you are hereby on your own."_

Bilbo silenced the radio, unable to hear more. His mind swirled with images more gruesome than the last. Smaug would show no mercy to anything that stood in his path. The foolhardy would see their precious homes become their tombs. He mourned for the soldiers who would die a fiery death in a doomed attempt to save the city.

**You can end this, Bilbo.**

The Company, those brave fools, would likely die. They had failed to halt Smaug's rampage. If those blessed with fantastic abilities could not stop him, no one could. No man of Gondor or Rohan or a member of the Confederation could stand up to him.

**You can be the savior. You can finally prove that pig-headed fool wrong.**

Bilbo took a seat at his table and buried his face in his hands. Helplessness seeped into his soul.

**You have the skill, brains, and heart to halt the Great Drake. All you have to do-**

_**Shut up! **_Bilbo lifted his head to glare at the Ring. It glinted serenely beneath the kitchen light. _**Not another word!**_

**Do you think we're afraid of you, Bilbo? **

_**Don't try to pretend you know me, you useless trinket. I know what you're trying to do and it won't work. If I put you on, it won't be just Smaug knocking at my door. You just want your maker to rescue you.**_

**We have better things to concern ourselves with than our maker's childish attempts to seize power.**

Bilbo sighed. This was not the first time the Ring had complained about Sauron. _**You can't tell me you're not looking forward to becoming the One Ring again. You're probably anxious to become Sauron's prize. To be petted and fawned over like in the old days. **_

**Our maker has proven himself unworthy of us!**Naked scorn dripped from the Ring's words. **He boasted of his superiority over lesser beings and yet he lost us to a lesser being! He proclaimed himself lord and was imprisoned like a common criminal. We have no desire to return to an idiot who amasses great power and loses it because of his foolishness! He may wish a return to power, but we will not oblige him by returning to his service.**

Bilbo dropped his hands and learned forward. _**So what do you plan on doing? I have no intention of putting you on.**_

**Wait as we usually do, Bilbo. We waited while that cave-dweller slobbered over us. We waited while our maker plotted and schemed. We will wait until you decide to put us on. You know you want to.**

Bilbo's eyes narrowed. _**I am nothing like Gollum or your maker!**_

**No, you're not like either of them. If you were like our maker, we would adorn your finger and watch as the world submits you. Gondor, Rohan and the Confederation would perish. If you were like that cave-beast, we would be coveted and petted, but ignored for ages until something threatened us. You simply keep us in the back of a closet and forget we're there, but we're a temptation that never goes away. Even now, you're fighting the urge to put us on and go out to fight the lizard.**

Bilbo was now out of his seat, leaning over the table to glare at the Ring. He did not want to give it the satisfaction of knowing it was right. _**Let me make myself perfectly clear, you foul thing! I will not be your pawn! If you don't be quiet, I'll go up on the roof with a sign that says SAURON! I HAVE YOUR RING!**_

The Ring fell silent, but Bilbo had the strongest impression it was sulking like an infant. Bilbo sat back down, pondering what to do. He thought of the ways out of the city. There were alternative routes that snaked through the countryside, but they were likely useless. The procrastinators would turn those routes into parking lots as they tried to escape the city. If what he heard was true, the bridge was a danger zone. The desperate who wanted out would likely battle with the military units to get across. Traveling by foot was out of the question. If Smaug was on his way, anything out in the open would fry.

He then thought of where he could go. A year after Smaug captured Mount Erebor, the leaders of every province and country in existence convened for the first time. Upon realizing it was fruitless to aid Erebor's refugees, they decided to plan in case Smaug decided to expand his reign of terror. Each ordered the construction of massive underground bunkers in undisclosed areas of their cities. The locations were known only to city officials. Savvy citizens realized certain green signs revealed the location of the bunkers. The bunkers were multistory facilities, capable of housing hundreds of civilians, medical and military personnel, and civic officials. Bilbo thought of packing his suitcase and heading to the city's bunker. That idea was dashed when he realized those bunkers would become death traps if Smaug attacked.

The faces of his former colleagues and friends stormed into his mind unbidden. Bilbo buried his head in his hands, groaning. He could see Thorin and Dwalin's scowling faces, clutching their bloodstained weapons. Nori's knowing smirk and Balin's wise sympathy. The steel glint in Kili's eyes before releasing pointed death. The sleek ferocity on Fili's face as he and his soul-swords hewed down enemies. Ori's tongue sticking out of his mouth as he knitted some fabulous scarf. Dearest Bofur…

**Your level of sentiment is astounding.**

_**Hush, you!**_

A part of Bilbo tried assure him that his former friends were fine. The Company was thirteen strong and blessed with powers that would protect them. The familial units each had their unique powers that could be combined into something terrifying when needed. Even if Smaug put up more of a struggle, they would be victorious. Thorin would find someway to resurrect himself if he died and Smaug still lived. His people would battle until the last man. Smaug was their oldest enemy. His escape and the destruction he wrought would ensure someone kept the fight going.

Another part of Bilbo, though, was quick to point out the flaws. Sure, the Company was thirteen strong, but they were thirteen fools. The combat-minded members always got their way. Thorin was quick to deny good counsel and actions that offered peace. His unyielding nature meant that his people were dragged into messes of Thorin's making. The Battle of the Five Armies was the predominant example. Gondor and Rohan were especially critical after learning the causes of the bloodshed. Thorin's unwillingness to recompense neighboring regions for suffering Smaug's wrath was horrible enough, but valuing the Arkenstone, the centerpiece of Erebor's Crown Jewels, more than peace was tantamount to causing another World War. The primary sin for the rest of the Company was holding their tongues. Insubordination was unheard of. It was better to be part of the group than to seem weak or scared. They stifled their common sense and sense of right and wrong. Bilbo knew this all too well.

A faint boom dragged Bilbo out of his thoughts. For a moment, he wondered if his upstairs neighbors were fleeing. Another boom told him it was coming from outside. Confused, he turned to the window, gasping at the sunlight now peeking in. He leapt up and ran to it, looking out. Clear sky greeted him as it steadily brightened.

"It can't be morning already,' he muttered.

**Your ponderings take hours, Bilbo.**

Another boom made him look back out. He listened carefully. The boom sounded like distant thunder, but there were no clouds in the sky. He briefly wondered if there was an oncoming storm. Puzzled, he moved back to the table and turned on the radio.

"_This is the Minas Tirith News Network, now broadcasting on all stations. The Great Drake and the Company are engaged in a fearsome battle over the skies of Bree. Eyewitnesses report the situation is dire. Only five Companions are still active, but their grievous wounds are affecting their ability to fight. The military has begun firing projectiles to kill the fiend. Residents near the Brandywine Bridge and Hobbiton will likely be able to hear this. Units along-"_

The hiss of static had Bilbo frantically turning the dial. No other station came through. He sat back, praying nothing was serious. He glanced at the Ring.

**The transmission center in Bree has been knocked out. Smaug tossed Thorin right into it. **

Bilbo leaned back. _**If so, Smaug'll be heading our way soon. **_He raked a shaking hand through his hair_**. What am I going to do?**_

**We know exactly what you're going to do, Bilbo Baggins.**

Bilbo glared at the Ring, but kept silent.

**You are going to put us on and go out to burn the flaming lizard. You know you want to.**

Had he been a weaker soul, Bilbo would have slid the Ring on and flown to Bree. Yet his stubbornness outweighed his innate desire to go out and help. He folded his arms over his middle and sat. The Ring kept silent, but its displeasure echoed through Bilbo's mind in heavy waves. Bilbo did not care, though. He simply sat and pondered. This was where he remained as the distant booms slowly morphed into the thunderous vanguard that crept closer to the city. Still, Bilbo did nothing. He just sat.


	3. Chapter 3

Before the Erebor mission, Bilbo used to be a decisive soul. Once he set his mind to something, he went for it wholeheartedly. The arrival of Gandalf and the Company that fateful night changed that. Sure, the Took part of him demanded he go with the Company. It was a heady temptation. The Baggins part effectively ended his days as decisive. It upheld his sensibilities and common sense, reminding Bilbo that this was not his business. Why should he risk his life for a mountain he had no claim to? Took put up a fight and ultimately won when Bilbo ran out of Bag End to catch up to the Company. The journey to the mountain forced Bilbo to make decisions that had life-or-death consequences. These were a far cry from the simple decisions made in Hobbiton. It was not until the Arkenstone fiasco that Bilbo questioned his decision-making. Every choice was reexamined, not just the ones made during the journey. His choice to remain on Mount Erebor to fight in the ensuing bloodbath ranked as one of his dumbest. He left as per Thorin's demands, wondering if running off with the Company had been a good idea. The Baggins part of him berated him the whole journey back while the lack of fire from the Took half said enough for Bilbo.

Now he sat, pondering choices that would haunt him forever. Before him was a weapon that could help halt the bloodshed. If he put the Ring on, his own powers would be multiplied infinitely. He could easily stop Smaug and anyone else causing chaos. The Ring was the best way to shorten the bloodshed. Still, questions swirled in his head.

_Why should he put on the Ring? What difference would he make? Why not just wait and let the fools fight it out themselves? Why should he risk his neck for people who cared more for trinkets than peace? _

This final question kept him seated. He reminded himself of his oath after his banishment. As he slowly descended the mountain, he swore to never involve himself in the affairs of other nations. His thanks came as injury and exile. He had no fond memories of the leaders. Despite the excuse of mental illness, Thorin was of clear mind when he chose gold over friendship. Thranduil cared more for regaining his people's wealth from Thorin. Bard kindly showed Bilbo the border after Bilbo handed over his reward of gold and money. He had not even the decency to allow Bilbo to rest in his city. Even Gandalf abandoned him. Bilbo rued the day he ever greeted the meddlesome fool in the garden of Bag End. Only Elrond was remembered with kindness. The great Confederation leader allowed Bilbo to spend as long as he needed in his homeland until he was fully healed and rested.

His former neighbors in Hobbiton were another reason he remained seated. If his banishment was not bad enough, his treatment upon return was worse. His beloved home has been auctioned off and nearly all of his possessions were stolen by unscrupulous neighbors. His attempts to regain Bag End and his possessions were stonewalled by the Mayor and the Sackville-Baggins clan. Through niceties and politeness, they reminded Bilbo it was his own fault he was now homeless. Bag End was too valuable a home to leave empty. He did, though, have a pseudo-final laugh. Bag End never ended up in Lobelia's clutches. The new owners were the Gamgees. Hamfast wanted to give it back to Bilbo, but the latter had not the heart to steal from a family with a brood of little ones. Bilbo packed up what remained of his possessions and moved to the border. A border that would be destroyed if he did not make up his mind.

**We don't see what's so hard about it. You have the power to bring Smaug to his knees. You're not the type to simply stand by and allow innocents to die.**

Bilbo looked at the Ring. _**That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has endanger your neck just to save people because idiots didn't do their job. **_

He received the impression the Ring was pondering his words. After a moment's pause, it spoke.

**You speak not from fear, but from deep anger. An anger your sensibilities refuse to unleash and one that we would happily increase in battle. Your anger stems not from the fallout of the Battle, but at yourself.**

_**Of course, I'm angry! **_snapped Bilbo. He leaned forward. _**I was stupid enough to believe the promise of adventure and look where that got me! I lost my home, my possessions, and my friends. I tried to help and all I got were wounds and exile. To top it all of, I earned the eternal hatred of a king because I stole some bloody rock! So excuse me for not being keen on risking my hide for fools who turned their backs on me!**_

The Ring sighed.** All the more reason to go out and fight. You can make those fools rue the day they cast you aside. You can receive all the honors-**

_**It's not about the honor or the glory! If I go out there, it would be to protect and defend. To know that I did the best that I could.**_

**Then why are you still sitting here? Go out and battle Smaug and defend those lives!**

Bilbo huffed in exasperation. By this point, the distant booms were now pure thunderous waves. They rolled over the city like an aerial tsunami. Bilbo pressed his foot to the floor and felt his leg shake. He reached for the radio, flicked it on, and tried the dial once more. Static poured out of the speaker. He turned it off and shoved it aside. Realization began to sink in. The thunder was likely artillery fire from the armed units near the Brandywine Bridge. The ferocity of it meant that something was near. To make matters worse, the volume indicated it was proving stubborn to deal with. Bilbo, still torn, decided to listen.

He had no idea how long he sat listening to the thunderous cacophony. It ebbed and peaked in volume and speed. There were steady booms, echoing cannonades, and rolling roars. Elegant bursts were followed by sporadic concussions. Vast silences indicated a rapid rearmament. The period that sounded like a fireworks show disturbed Bilbo the most. The resultant waves rattled everything in their path. Everything in the kitchen rattled and vibrated. A fine shower of dust fell from the ceiling. The window began to rattle violently. Bilbo moved back in his seat, fearing it would break. His ears winced as the glass screeched and shook. There was a brief lull before a massive boom. Every part of Bilbo's being cringed.

_**I wonder what's going on? **_Bilbo's tone was quiet and hesitant.

**The perimeter units have launched some fancy missile at Smaug. It's knocked him out and they're preparing to launch more volleys at him if he wakes up. Unfortunately, they've little time because he's stirring.**

Bilbo groaned. Missiles were not going to stop Smaug. It was only a union of dumb luck and Bard's unerring eye that he had been captured in the first place. To stop Smaug, a challenger needed a connection to the elements. A connection Bilbo possessed.

Bilbo looked at the Ring. He knew he could easily stop Smaug with the Ring's aid. His powers would be amplified to the point where he could challenge his former foe. He knew Smaug would gladly welcome the opportunity to face Bilbo on more equal footing. Yet he hesitated. His heart and good sense still warred.

'_Let the strong deal with them,'_ ordered his good sense. _'Gondor and Rohan screwed up. This is their mess.'_

'_Thousands have already died,'_ stated his heart. _'No one has the strength to stop Smaug.' _

'_This isn't our fight,'_ said his good sense. _'Let the strong deal with him.'_

His heart's next words were directly to Bilbo. '_Can you live with yourself if you let this madness continue? Can you live with yourself because you're still mad at one fool?'_

_There was a pause. _

"_No," muttered Bilbo as he stood up. "No, I can't."_

_He made his decision._

_O.O _

_Sauron stood still beneath the canopy of a dying tree. For a moment, he wondered if Lady Fate would be so cruel as to taunt him so soon. Within his mind, the presence of the Ring glowed bright. It was a gleeful specter, reminding him of his failure to keep it in his possession. Its teasing presence amplified the anger he felt towards the worm who now wore it. _

_While imprisoned, Sauron plotted the death of whoever possessed his Ring. Though it was lost, he knew it was not gone. He knew not who possessed it as his powers were diminished, but his link to it remained whole. He knew it has been hidden, coveted, killed over, wept over, and used by something unworthy of it. No one save him was worthy to wear that golden band. No one understood the power that coursed within it. Now the worm who had preserved for so long was wearing it. Sauron's link flared and he eagerly sought the mind of the worm. To his shock, the Ring blocked his attempts and was shielding the worm._

_This was unacceptable._

"_Master, what are your orders?"_

_Sauron did not bother turning around. He knew Annatar was seeking any excuse to undermine his authority now that he had tasted power. The Ring's usage by a lowly mortal would provide that._

"_Inform the Angmaris that their time is now. They are to attack whatever city is in their path and raze it. They have full permission to do whatever they wish to the inhabitants."_

"_What of the were-wargs and the Orc packs?"_

"_Have them follow the Angmaris. They have full permission to seize as many females as they want for their breeding purposes."_

"_What of me?"_

"_Go to Smaug and help him destroy whatever is in his path."_

_Annatar's disapproval rolled off in waves, but Sauron cared little. _

"_And what of you?" asked Annatar eventually. "What are you to do?"_

"_My time has not yet come, but rest assured that I will join you all," said Sauron. "Now leave me."_

_Annatar departed silence, leaving Sauron alone. Once he was sure of his solitude, Sauron closed his eyes. The Ring's image danced at the forefront of his mind. It mocked his attempts to learn the identity of the bearer._

"_You will be mine again," swore Sauron._

_The Ring simply laughed._


End file.
